Pull Me Out From Inside
by KellmettRocksThatHat
Summary: Bless me father for I have sinned. Castiel is a priest with a mysterious past, Dean is the ex-con who gets pulled into doing confessionals. Why does he get the impression Cas isn't exactly there for the right reasons? Dean/Castiel. Bad language/ slash!R&R
1. Chapter 1

"No,"

"Dean,"

"Sammy, _no_,"

Sam was nursing his best bitch face, arms folded, big ass shoulders in the pensive set he had mastered over the years and Dean found himself wondering what the fuck he was doing sitting outside of a church when he should be getting shit faced, and picking up some unattached drifter.

"Dean, _please_," He pleaded, and the big brown eyes were out on full effect. Dean grimaced, pulling a hand down his face. Even after two months inside he still crumbled at those damn kicked puppy eyes.

"Everyone is inside, c'mon man. You owe me!"

_Dammit. _

"Fine. But if this is some sort of baptismal hoodoo sacrilegious crap, I'm going ex-con on you ass," He threatened

"Dude, I needed a best man. Otherwise you would be still Green Mile-ing it. Jess and I really want this church Dean and this is one of the terms," He said giving Dean the subtle '_if you mess this up for me I'm tossing you ass back in jail,' _underlying the small smile he shot the older Winchester before getting out of the taxi. Dean rolled his caught the drivers eyes in the mirror.

"The hell you looking at, Ronald?" He growled and the furry guy made his eyes downcast. Damn straight. Dean climbed out of the back of the yellow taxi and shrugged off the unease staring at the church.

He felt eyes burning on his back. "Damn laser eyes," He grumbled before running to catch up with the monstrosity that was his brother.

"Any hot bridesmaids?" He asked casually, just as the cab pulled off.

Sam snorted. "Dude, you are not scoring any of the bridesmaids," Dean grinned as if that would stop him.

"So, any hot _groomsmen_?" He added cheekily and he saw Sam flush.

"As much as I love you and accept you being bi-…,"

"Bi-curious," Dean supplied helpfully, his hand punctuating the practiced word in the air.

"_Bi-curious, _I do not want to hear about you banging any dudes _or _chicks until after the wedding is over. I am not having a repeat of my sixteenth birthday," He said, scowling. Dean nodded, grinning dirtily. But Sammy was right. It was his time and he'd be damned if anything ruined it for his little brother.

He smirked, reached up and ruffled his hair, earning his a dirty look and a 'Dean, you're such a friggen' jerk'. Dean laughed, walking ahead, and belted a fist above his air in the pompous big brother way he was so awesome at before he pushed the big wooden church doors open.

No wonder Sam was begging him to go along with the fine print because _damn_.

"It's beautiful, huh?" Sam said softly from beside his brother. Dean rolled his eyes. Trust Sam to throw around the word _beautiful. _

Dean shrugged. "It's big and its musty. It's real _churchy_, Sammy" He said, and Sam lightly punched his arm before starting striding down the isles to the congregation near the alter.

"Well, it's better than prison-y, _no_?" He threw over his shoulder, and Dean made a face behind his brothers back. _Collage boy, thinks he's so smart. _

Apparently what had promised to be only a few friends turned out to be pretty much everyone Dean had met in his life, and at least half of those he'd banged. And after the last few months of celibacy were likely to bang again. He smiled slightly to himself. It was either a feast or a famine and he was surrounded with women who were bridesmaids at their friends wedding. Few drinks in them- he grinned at the approaching blonde.

"Dean!" Jessica said cheerfully, quickly pulling a Houdini on some elderly relatives and walking over to him, giving him a warm hug. This hug he liked, not at all like the quick yet awkward man hug Sam had given him.

"Finally a _friendly _attractive face," He smiled, shooting a quick look the hoard of women behind him. Jessica laughed that tickling laugh Sam had gone on about like some dumbstruck chick when they started going out. It wasn't until he'd met her that it was kind of charming but that did not stem the abuse he gave Sam about it.

"I almost didn't think you'd come. I mean, I know how you hate this sort of thing," She said, casting a look around the church and Dean shrugged.

"If my baby brother is happy, then I'm happy," He smiled, pinching Sam cheeks before laughing at the redness blossoming on Sam's face as he slapped Dean's face away.

"And I suppose this young man must be our Samuels older brother, "A voice said from behind them. _Our Samuels? _They all turned to see the elderly guy rocking the priestly digs.

"Dean, this is Fr. Fitzpatrick. He's over the church," Jessica said, smiling at the bearded old dude.

"Handsome, older brother, Dean actually," He smiled slightly, shaking the outstretched hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you Dean. Sam has told me about your troubles," He sympathised and Dean froze. He looked at his brother who had adverted his eyes.

"Oh. What else has _Samuel _told you," He said reinstating the mechanic smile.

"Oh, just that you are an avid church goer,"

"Ah,…yes. I just don't feel right without hitting up the church every Sunday," He smiled tightly.

"And your priest?" Father smiled, genuinely interested. Dean swallowed.

"Oh, Fr. McNulty is great- great sermonises. Inspiring really," Padre's furry brows knitted in confusion.

"I know a Fr. O'Malley at the prison," _Shit_.

"Exactly," He said dumbly, beaming now bobbing his head.

"Excuse me, Padre, mind if I steal my employee here? No? Good," Dean winced at the fingers curling in tightly around his shoulder blade and pulling him away but feinted away with them.

Ellen dragged him to the nearest pew and pushed him down, before smacking him upside the head.

"Ow," He shouted indignantly, rubbing his head.

"Dean Winchester, glad to see prison didn't make you any _smarter_," She bit out, hands on hips. Dean grinned sheepishly, standing up before wrapping her in a hug.

"Good to see you too, Ellen," He muttered and laughed when she pushed him back, sternly even with the fond twinkle and quirk of her lips showed that she was at least kind of happy to see him.

She harrumphed before turning and catching a weary eye on the crowd and beckoning them over.

"So, dya miss me?" He asked cheekily and she shot him her best pursed-lip-I'm-bout-to-shove-my-foot-up-your-ass- you-lovable-handsome-devil-you look.

"Like a very irritating, mouthy, cocky, self important, _pompous_-,"

"Woah, take it easy there, Ellen" Dean laughed nervously lowly, even after two months fighting off two grabby men twice his height called Mouse and Gaylord he still felt some little bitch fear when Ellen chewed him out.

"-son of a bitch hole,"

"Don't sugar-coat it or anything and somehow I don't think you're aloud to use such language in the Houses of the Holy," She looked like was wanted to hit him again. But instead she smiled, rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Guess you did miss me then," He grinned.

"Don't go getting a big head or anything," He scoffed.

"When has that ever stopped him," Someone cut across gruffly and Dean turned to the neatly groomed Bobby and Rufus and now noticing it he saw Ellen was wearing a pants suit and heels. Suddenly he kinda felt underdressed. Eeh, at least he was dressed. It was defiantly a step up from Sammy's sixteenth.

"Howdy boys, looking spiffy. Auditioning for the next G man part," Bobby scowled darkly at him but Dean knew him well enough not to exactly care. Unlike his wife Bobby was more placid, grouchy and snarky as hell sure but he didn't hit him around the head. And put force into it.

"Bite me, Winchester," Rufus said, darkly, unconsciously, pulling at his jacket.

"Maybe later," He grinned, raising his eyebrows.

"So, how was it?" Bobby, asked sticking his hands in his pockets but quickly taking them out when Ellen shot him a look.

"Bobby, I was talking to you and Rufus last week. And its not like I was in there for long, it was fairly fu…trivial, lets be honest,"

Rufus snorted. "You punched a nudist,"

"I punched a _dick_,"

"Uh huh, you're just lucky your brother is as good a lawyer as he is a brother and didn't let your sorry _behind _rot in there," Ellen murmured, wrapping an arm around her husbands waist and suddenly Bobby didn't look so sheepish and awkward anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sam's awesome doesn't give him a free pass for making us do this crap though. Cause I know for a fact I'm not the only one who doesn't want to do 'confessionals'," Dean let his voice provide the air quotes.

"Oh, suck it up. It's not that bad, right?" Bobby and Rufus shifting under her penetrating glare was answer enough for her.

"No," "Uh huh," The two older men tried to justify and Dean almost smiled. Least he wasn't the only scared of the reckoning force that was Ellen, who had even installed fear into her husbands heart.

"I could kick you three in the ass," She snapped before walking off. Bobby went to follow but Rufus tugged at his arm.

"I think, it's best you give her a few minutes," He muttered, and the three men sat on the pew. Dean in the middle with a scowl fixed on his face as the queue leading to the confessional box was getting smaller.

"Dude, scoot over," Sam murmured, smacking Deans knees before he squeezed in between Rufus and Dean, pulling Jessica onto his lap.

"Rufus, what is that?" Jessica asked softly, as they sat down. Dean and Bobby froze. If she was talking about the flash of silver under his jacket that was holding Go juice in that was helping Bobby build up courage then they were screwed.

"Uh, this- well this is um… _holy water_," He said lamely, nodding his head lips quirked like he was a genius for thinking so fast. Dean rolled his hazel eyes and watched as Jessica raised a brow under golden curls. Sam pressed his smile into her bare back, and clutched her tighter to him. Dean smiled.

"Then why is it in a flask?" She said, and Dean could hear a touch of something in her voice that he couldn't place.

"Well, that's a funny story actually. It's real funny… Bobby why don't you her,"

Dean caught the _idjit _Bobby breathed out in his alcohol ridden breath.

"We heard off of, um some documentary that drinking some holy water before confessional gives total _cleanse," _

Jessica full lips quirked and she made a slightly surprised face.

"I'll bet," She murmured before pulling the hip flask out, unscrewing the top and chugging it like a friggen' trucker. She made a face and shook out her shoulders when she finished, the burning liquid sliding down her throat. She noticed the four pairs of eyes on her, amazed.

"I'm the one getting married, I think I above everybody need the cleanse," She shrugged, and smiled when they laughed. Sam looked at her with this almost sickening adoration that Dean found wasn't sickening after all, pulled her head back and kissed her on the lips.

When he pulled back a deep scarlet was spreading down through the line of her dress, adorning from the toothy grin.

"Get a room," Dean said with high amusement, he fed off the joy radiating from the happy pair- cracking the air like electrical volts.

"Oh, Dean," Jessica started but faded away when she heard her name being called out from the other side of the church, her side. She grimaced slightly.

"Ruby," She said, rolling her eyes before sliding off Sam's lap. She gave him a chaste kiss, smiled at Bobby and Rufus and leant in and gave Dean a quick hug when he winked at her.

"It really is good to have you back, Dean," She smiled before bouncing away. Sam turned to him opened his mouth but snapped it closed when Dean held up a hand.

"Don't go getting all sentimental on me, Samantha," He said quickly and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Well, well, well. Dean Winchester out of the fire and into the frying pan," Pam piped up from behind them, sliding into the seat with her daughter and Ellen's daughter.

"Hey Pam. Tessa. Jo. Looking good, ladies,"

"You can't hit on me and my mother at the same time, Dean," Tessa said, leaning forward. Tessa had been the one girl, aside from Jo he could never get into the pants of. And boy did he wish he could. But she had ended up being his best friend and making for good inspiration.

"What can I say takes a special person to do it,"

"Special is right," She commented dryly and Dean feigned offence.

"And aren't you supposed to be the counsellor?"

"Its not an office day," She shrugged.

"So, you got yourself any boyfriend in prison?" Jo asked conspicuously, rosy lips fighting the upturn. Tessa grinned at her friend and Pam rolled her eyes. Deal scowled at the snorts from his pew. So much for bros over hoes. But then again, Bobby and Rufus were coming out the wrong side of fifty and Sam wasn't exactly brother material. More like a big, flat chested adolescent girl with extra parts. Looked like he was on his own.

"Haha hilarious,"

"Hey actually, have any of you four studs seen Missouri?" Pam asked, leaning forward giving Dean a nice view of cleavage.

"Missouri's coming? Missouri, oh no no no I did not sign up for that," Sam pulled his brother down.

"Do you not remember the sacrilegious hoodoo crap equals foot up your ass equation I gave you earlier?" He hissed at his brother who simply cast his eyes towards the ceiling.

"C'mon man. Stop being a baby," Hah! That was rich. Obviously Sam blanked out threat upon threat made to Dean involving a certain wooden spoon.

"Last time she said she'd whack me with it," He piped angrily. Ellen was scary, Missouri was bad for his health.

"Least it's a promise. Uhm," Rufus said mostly to himself.

"What?" He barked when he noticed everyone was watching him. "A man has needs,"

"What the hell is wrong with you, old man," Bobby snarked from the other side.

"Who the hell you calling old man?" Rufus glaring at Bobby at the position from his elbows on knees.

"Dean?" A red head, hot too, called from beside the confessional box, brandishing a list. He grimaced, getting to his feet and striding over- throwing a bitter look to his brother over his shoulder.

He stopped beside Red and gave her a sidelong grin. He looked at Red and the dark box. He smirked. Give Padre something to talk about.

"Hi, I don't think we've officially met. I'm Dean Winchester-," Red shot him a raised eyebrow. That read one thing. No naked fun time for you. Ever. Dean coughed, scratched the back of his neck and threw the door open on the boxed room and stepped in.

He sat in the small seat provided, fiddled with his rings and most defiantly did not jump when he heard the flap being pulled back. There was silence.

"Hi, my name is Dean Winchester and I'm a sinner," He said cleverly and was met with a further silence. He shot the door a promising look.

"Anyone there? Padre?"

He heard a sigh on the other side before a deep gravely voice broke out on the other end. "This isn't a AA meeting Dean Winchester. Tell me your sins," He said and whoa. Dean found himself smirking in the darkness, leaning back in his chair and thinking about provoking the person behind the voice cause man, it was like an eargasm. Deep and rough and slightly angry. He really really hoped at least the old man would give him the decency of never making himself known to him because that, that would be awkward.

"Listen Padre, I've sinned, isn't that good enough? I mean blah blah blah- same principle at the end of the day and its not like I give a damn about this crap. I'm here for the groom/ bride whatever. I'm not going to spill my secrets like some chick. Some things, are private. And I'm hardly an old woman, in diapers named Eunice Kennedy. And have you not seen In Bruges? Really?"

"Alright….Eunice," Dean was about to give an angry retort when they spoke again. "Tell me why you got sent to prison?"

"None of your business," He growled.

"Dean," The said simply and dammit he felt this feeling wrap around in his gut and suddenly the words were forcing themselves out.

"I punched a nudist?" He said wearily. He totally did the hear the chuckle before it was covered with the cough. Not exactly, Halo Patrol behaviour but hey, finally someone thought it was funny.

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I punch a Birthday Suit?" He muttered, no one really had actually asked him why before. Just thought it was Bruce Banner breaking out.

"Tell me,"

"He was scaring a kid, okay? The kid was practically hyperventilating, and the son of a bitch was pretty much stalking them and their mom. So, yeah I punched his lights out. Now lay it on me, I was wrong. I should have found away to stop him-,"

"If that's what you want to hear- oh you want me to lie," Dean stared at the flap bewildered.

"But I would have done the same thing. Of course I wouldn't have punched him as hard but I understand what you felt you had to do,"

"The hell kind of priest are you?" Dean asked, slightly breathless. He heard a sudden dark chortle the other side, filled with bitterness.

"I ask myself that everyday. But enough- how about I cut you a deal?" He said quickly.

"I'm not changing the channel, go ahead,"

"You can just sit in here and pretend your getting your confession done but by the end of this wedding you have to come back and give it to me," He said reasonably.

Dean chewed on his lip. "Might be awhile in here then, padre," He laughed quietly.

"It's okay. Whatever you've done, in the eyes of the Lord its resolved," But somehow Dean didn't exactly think he was practicing what he was preaching.

"Okay, deal," Dean nodded.

"Good,"

He wasn't exactly sure how long he sat in there, just relishing in the breathing in the dark. He jumped when there was a slight knock on the other side of box.

"Now unless you want to spend some time with Fr. Fitzpatrick?" He muttered and Dean shook his head vehemently.

"You shaking your head?"

"Uh huh," Dean said, feeling a blush blossom in his cheeks. My God he was turning into his brother.

"Now in the eyes of the Lord I resolve all of your sins. Name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. You may now go in peace to love and serve the Lord. Amen Now just say five Holy Mary's,"

Dean rose his eyebrows in the general direction and faintly blessed himself before walking out of the door the exact same time as the door on the other side opened. So much for not seeing the owner of the voice to shame him.

"Thank you father," The voice said again and Dean turned. _Screw it. _Blue eyes connected with his and he almost fell on his knees and started praying. His old man priest turned out to be about his age, an inch or so smaller than him maybe and absolutely fuckable. Brown hair was artfully tousled giving him bedhead, faint stubble covered his chin and while this was all very good and defiantly well he couldn't take his eyes off of the mans eyes.

_I am not sleeping with the priest. _I am most defiantly not sleeping with the hot priest. Blue eyes as if reading Dean's thoughts, lifted an eyebrow, like _wanna bet. _

"Fr. Novak!" Dean heard a familiar cheerful voice, most defiantly a little sloshed from the cleanse from behind him. FR. Novak immediately, looked completely wholesome again and faced Jessica.

"Castiel, Jessica. Or Cas, either one. Fr. Novak sounds so formal," He said and Dean almost dropped his jaw. Had he just imagined the whole sleeping together innuendo and secondly who the fuck names their kid _Castiel_.

"_Sorry, _Cas," She beamed and then spotted Dean. "Oh, Dean! Obviously you two have met. Dean Winchester this is Castiel Novak! He's the priest saying our wedding,"

_Oh, crap. _

"You don't say," Dean said, fake smile ever present again. He leaned forward and took the lean fingered hand and shook it, swallowing. Defiantly affirmative on the sleeping together innuendo.

_Sweet sixteen, Sammy. _

* * *

><p>Uh, oh. My first Dean Castiel fic. Plus, its kinda kinky...: P...Please, review! Its love and helps inspiration : )

_Cyber cookies and milk to my reviewer (: :) \_/_


	2. Chapter 2

Dean loved his brother. He did, let no one tell you different. When their mother had died in that Blaze of Glory that had taken out six lives Dean had carried out Sam from the burning building. He left his drunken ass of a father and saved his baby brother and never even looked back. But _this _was having him question his loyalties.

"Jeez lady, watch the goods," He winced. Sam grinned from his seat. Watching his big brother stand on a podium getting a suit fitted was funny, the twenty six year old seamstress he'd slipped a twenty to continuously stabbing at Dean with needles was even funnier.

"Oh, sorry sir," She said barely registering what she was saying, hiding behind the waterfall of curled hair.

"So, anyway," Sam started quickly just as Dean recoiled from Becky's touch. "what have you planned? For the bachelor party?" He squirmed uneasily under Dean's sly grin.

"Dean. _No_. Whatever you're thinking, whatever your planning. No- no to strippers, or hookers or any sort of activities that end up in me being tied up on campus wearing only pastilles," Dean rolled his eyes, his head lolling back onto his shoulders so he looked at the ceiling before letting his head fall in exasperation to look at Sam.

"Awh Sammy, such a stickler for details,"

"I mean it, Dean. I don't want anything to jeopardise my wedding day. Just a small poker game, with lots of beer and a few of the guys,"

"Such as?" Dean sighed, so much for going out with a bang.

"Me, you, Bobby, Rufus, Chuck, Andy-,"

"Isn't that the guy with the bong?" Dean butted in, interest piqued.

"-Ash, you know just the guys. Oh, and Cas," He finished offhandedly. Becky prodded him again where his body suddenly jerked awake.

"Ah!," He practically hissed at her. She looked up at his, defiance at being blamed radiating from her.

"You moved that time," She rattled, and Dean swore. For a nerdy looking fan fiction writer she sure was ballsy. He shot her a dark look which she returned. Damn, what was with this chick. She wasn't even that into him, granted he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

Dean broke their little pissing contest, brows risen at himself and looked at Sam, who was flicking through messages on his Blackberry.

"Cas? As in Castiel, the _priest_?" Dean asked slowly, "Well, this shindig is going to be a whirlpool of fun. I'm already dizzy," Not exactly what his inner monologue was saying. That was more like- _I'm going to fuck him. _No, Dean. No. _But, c'mon man! _He's a priest. _But he's hot_. You are not coveting the fucking priest, Dean- its like breaking one of the ten commandments. _You'll find its not. _

"Dude, he's a nice guy. Little rough around the edges sure but he's kind of nice to be around. Sort of soothing. Plus he's our age Dean, same age as you- a little older maybe and just because he's a white collar doesn't mean he's not still a guy," Sam said, not even bothering to look up. He was set on having the priest there and Dean couldn't even tell him the reason why he shouldn't bring him.

"Fine, I'll ask him. No promises," He grunted. Sam smiled, looking at him with happy big brown orbs. Dean half expected to see a tail emerge from over his shoulder and start wagging. His brothers expression hardened quickly.

"Ask them today," He said quickly, commandingly. Dean muttered darkly under his breath before getting stuck yet again with a needle. He glared sharply down. Becky met his eyes again.

"You should respect his wishes, he is the groom after all," She whispered angrily, just so he could hear. Dean scowled. No wonder this chick was so hard up, she was sticking that in all the wrong places. She had a hard on for Sam. _Ha_. Figures.

Before he had been sent down for the whole nudist misunderstanding Dean had worked full time at Singers Auto Garage. It was a pretty sweet set up, great bosses, a job he loved and flexible hours. So, here he stood again. Under the hood of a car, while Bobby had taken Ellen out for diner after giving Dean his job back without a second of hesitation.

He was up to it to his elbows, literally. Grease smeared across his strong tanned arms scowl emanating his face. A smile dancing in his eyes, belonging to a perky blonde.

"What is it Jo," He growled out and she looked taken aback at his brash behaviour. Sexually frustration and a steamy pile shoved onto his place made for cranky Dean.

"Shimmer down, Bruce. I just came out here to talk,"

He almost told her to sit on it and spin- just so he could check her retreating form out but he sighed and shoved the greasy, frayed rag into the back pocket of his jeans.

"I'm not changing the channel," He remarked gruffly, leaning back against the bonnet of one of the stripped cars and crossing his arms. She rolled her eyes and stood in front of him with a smile.

"Since I am the maid of honour and you are groomsman ," Which in Dean terminology could be simplified down to Head Bitch and Sam's butt monkey. "We have to get some things straight," And that from a woman's mouth was never good. Especially from Jo, _especially _when the words were directed at Dean.

"Such as?" He enquired roughly, brow risen.

"Stripper deal," She said bluntly and Dean smirked.

"Stripper deals," He repeated, nodding.

"What are you? My parrot? Stripper deals. There's a place in town that does two for one. Male and female,"

Dean's grin automatically dampened. "Sam doesn't want one," He muttered bitterly. Jo laughed astonished.

"Really? Jessica pretty much _demanded _one," Huh, Sam was such a friggen' stuck in the mud. He obviously failed him as an older brother. Maybe his sixteen birthday scarred him. After all what kind of little weirdo _didn't _want a stripper.

"Well I guess I'll just get two for the bachlorette," Jo sighed conspiringly, twisting her torso and sticking out her tits. The overhead spotlight dyed all the right places in lustrous yellow tint. Shadows danced across her bare chest, before dipping into the hemline of her shirt. Dean shifted his gaze upwards.

"Screw it. I'm putting my foot down. I am getting a stripper for my little brother," And that didn't sound perverted at all.

"I hear they prefer the term, exotic dancer now," Jo offered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Huh, and I hear drug dealers prefer the term exotic pharmacist- who knew," Jo slapped him across the head but laughed her tinkling laugh and opened her mouth to say something. Except it was cut off by the flash of headlights that registered in their eyes as a car turned into the yard.

"Uh oh. I'm going to go. I'm meeting Adam at the Roadhouse," The Roadhouse was Ellen's bar inherited from her first marriage. It was chalk full of things that wanna fuck ya. Be it man, woman or hermaphrodite. And Adam, her newest squeeze who had apparently passed Bobby and Ellen's judgement, was according to the grapevine coming to the wedding.

"Spill some for me," He said off handedly, swiping giant paw marks of grease down his grey t-shirt.

"Will do," She said over her shoulder, as she faded into shadows. "But we still have stuff to talk about," She shouted before the door to the house opened, a silhouette disappeared inside, all frills and curls and the door slammed shut behind it.

"Eeeeh, kill me," He muttered, dragging his palm across his face. The car that had turned in to the yard, pulled up into the overhead emitted light and the door opened.

"Hey! I'm here my pick-up," A short brunette dude said, sauntering up like he owned the world. He immediately identified the odour around him as candy. What Dean couldn't place was he whether he liked him or thought he was just another douche bag.

"No shit. Which one?"

"77' Camaro Z28," He answered, a smirk emanating. Dean let out a low whistle but beckoned with his head for the smaller man to follow him further back into the yard where the car was.

"Man, I got to say. _This_, it's a thing of beauty," He muttered appreciatively.

"Dude, I know. Thing gets me more ass than a toilet seat," He grinned. Dean laughed and the sheer filthy bluntness of the other man.

"Gabriel," He said offering a hand. Dean stared at it for a second before accepting it.

"Dean,"

"So, how much do I owe you, Dean?" Gabriel asked, pulling out a brown leather wallet and fingering out three bills. Dean shook his head and folded his arms.

"No, no, um- were good. It was just a part had overheated and cracked but Bobby had some spares. He said it was on the house," Dean said and Gabriel looked grateful. Obviously he didn't speak _Car and Driver_.

"I insist," He said pushing the crisp bills at Dean. He shook his head vehemently.

"Well, I insist….._harder_," He offered pathetically and he rolled his eyes at himself. Gabriel grinned, shuffling his money back into the wallet and stepping back. He nodded, casting a backwards glance back to the car he was rolled up in.

"Okay, then at least let me buy you a drink. I need a wingman anyway. Me and my bros were heading out to celebrate and there hardly two to paint the town red. Whatcha say? Free drinks, free lay in it too….you know, my castoffs," The glint of the white of Gabriel's teeth flickered in Dean's eyes. He looked around the yard. Everything was pretty much done for tonight anyway. He shrugged.

"Sure, why not. I have to finish up here but after that I'll defiantly call in. Which bar?"

"The Roadhouse, you know it?"

Dean scoffed, smiling at the ground. He looked at Gabriel and nodded.

"You could say that,"

Dean pulled up the impala beside Gabriel's Camaro. He had pretty much finished after Gabriel and the mysterious car, which he assumed carried his stick in the mud brothers (God, he could relate) , had left. Closed up and shrugged on his jacket over a clean-ish t-shirt complimentary to Sam's not so buffed up days opposed to Sammy the overgrown Sasquatch days.

The scent of stale beer and just off tap, sweat and perfume, sick and bleach hit him like a tonne when he walked in and he smiled involuntarily at the odour. He had grown up with it and honestly, there wasn't a better scent in the world. Not to Dean anyway.

Ash spotted him from behind the bar and cocked his head at him, ignoring the various calls for said 'asswipe' 'moron' 'love,' and placed both hands on the slick bar top, drenched with spilled drink.

"Dean. _Dean_," He welcomed in the same way he always did since he knew him. Since Ellen had dragged him in from the streets and gave him a place to live. The crazy MIT dropout with the knife collection and bad hairdo who had a bed but mostly just passed out on the pool table.

"As….Doctor Badass," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "How's it going man,"

"Good! Good," He said, his eyes already zeroed in on something behind Dean. He sighed, twisting his torso and watching Jo pretty much lunge over the table laughing at something the sandy haired kid had said.

"Dude, just ask her out," He shouted as the jukebox was suddenly turned on. Everyone in the bar turned around to glare at the tourists who had switched it on.

"What? Who?" Ash shouted, acting oblivious. Dean rolled out his shoulders, suddenly remembering that he had meant to talk to Ash before anyway.

"Hey. Um, you up for poker game for Sam's bachelor party?" Ash rose a dubious brow.

"Depends. Stripper?"

Dean chuckled, brushing his hand over his eyes.

"Yeah,"

"Then I'm in," He said, pressing his lips together, clapping his hands together.

"So, the usual?" Ash asked, dodging a flying pack of peanuts flying through the air towards a customer.

"Whatever's on tap,"

Ash nodded.

"Yo, Case! Get Dean ….," His voice was lost to Dean when he turned around and scanned the crowd. He saw Gabriel sitting at a table nearest the bathroom, the angle and the board of the next booth up obscuring his view on the person sitting beside him.

He turned around and pointed to the table and Ash nodded, while Casey scowled at him. Her pretty eyes narrowed on her boss. Dean ducked behind a crowd of drunken frat boys and made his way towards the table Gabriel lounged at before she saw him.

"Dean-o, you made it! Thank God, these chuckle heads are such a drag," He said, rolling his eyes as Dean stepped up to them. Dean smiled, his eyes scanning the booth and stopping in familiar blue eyes.

"Dean this is my brother Castiel," Gabriel said motioning to the very familiar man beside him, sans collar. He looked as shell shocked as Dean felt. Dean opened his mouth, his eyes already widened in surprise but before he could say anything about them already knowing each other Castiel smiled outstretching his head.

"Nice to meet you, Dean," He said in that gravely voice. Dean stayed silent but smiled an unsure and nodded his head.

"And this is Jimmy," Gabriel introduced, motioning lazily to a figure across the table. Dean snapped his eyes away from Castiel's like someone had caught him stealing from the cookie jar and looked at Jimmy and Holy shit. There were two of them.

"You're twins," He breathed and Jimmy looked at him dryly.

"What gives you that impression," But he smiled and scooted over making room for Dean. He slid in swiftly, looking between the brothers awkwardly. What the hell had he just done.

He wasn't sure how long they talked. Hours about just stuff. It was easy and natural as conversation flowed. He checked out the local talent with Gabriel, watched as he disappeared outside the exit with a slim, elegant brunette with a big cheesy grin. He found out that Jimmy was a tax accountant, with a wife, Amelia and daughter Claire who he clearly doted on as his eyes lit up when he started to talk about them. He was rocking the whole picket fence and honestly, he looked like he didn't give a crap.

While Gabriel was out pumping uglies he saw various difference between the identical twins. Like Castiel's eyes were a brighter blue. Jimmy's hair was craftily gelled up while his brothers was an artfully tousled bed head. Their voices were different. Jimmy's was a few octaves higher than Castiel's and then there was the sense of humour.

Gabriel had been right up his alley, well, foul at stages but then again he knew Ash when he was out on the town but his twin brothers were completely different. While sober Jimmy had a dry, warped sense of humour, shitfaced Jimmy however was a definite giggler. Castiel drunk was same as Castiel sober but then again Dean didn't really think the priest was drunk, maybe a little jizzed but he guessed about as much as he was.

The reason why they were celebrating was because their little brother (insert drunken nuggie from Gabriel) was performing his first wedding, though Dean didn't miss the coolness radiating from Jimmy.

Sweat was gathering on his full pink upper lip and a small pink wet pink tongue slipped out and swept over the moist skin. Dean stiffened before restarting a conversation with Jimmy. He was suddenly beginning to pick on friction when he asked about their childhood. He got it though, curious as he was, he got it so he shut up about it.

"Aw, I love my life, boys," Gabe grinned indolently, his eyelids dropping- materializing out of thin air. Castiel cringed away from the hand wrapping around his shoulder.

"Gabe, get off. Who knows were you've been," He said only half jokingly.

"I've been to heaven, Cassie. And its inside of Kali,"

"She the chick you hooked up with?" Dean asked, finishing his beer that Gabriel had paid for.

"Uhm. I got a number too," Dean snickered. Before getting up.

"Imma hit the head," He said quickly before pushing open the door into the hall and then into the men's. The coolness in the air was awesome on his skin, so hot and sheen with sweat that it was almost uncomfortable.

There was two stalls in the small bathroom. One sink, one mirror and tiled with small white ones. He gulped in the night air pooling in from the open window and was just closing the bathroom stall door when it was pushed open against him.

A figure stepped in, their back turned and locked them in. Dean rose a brow, his mouth set into an angry line. He had at least twenty pounds on this guy and two inches, what idiot…and then they turned around.

"Cas?" He asked quietly and was suddenly pushed against the wall, his legs spread by the closed toilet between them. Castiel ignored it, and pressed his body up against his own. His thin shirt, sticking to him with sweat did not provide any suitable barrier between the two hot bodies. Dean inhaled sharply.

His mouth was on Dean's in an instance. Hot and desperate, sucking and licking and it only took a second for him to respond with just as much need as his. Tongues battled for dominance as Dean's hands snaked to nape of his neck, his fingers racking through the mussed hair and forcing Castiel's face closer, his body following suit.

Castiel stepped with legs spread to accommodate the white toilet and pressed his whole body against Dean's. Thigh against thigh, chest against chest- hips. Dean felt his dick twitch against the denim of his jeans and moaned into the parted mouth, submitting to the vigorous wet tongue.

Castiel growled deeply at the back of his throat and used his own hands to force Dean's away and press them against the cold tiles overhead. His own hands, pinning them as his mouth moved from Dean's mouth to his jaw line, to his exposed neck. He moved them suddenly away from the back wall and slammed him against the wall separating both stalls.

Dean gasped as Castiel sucked on the soft rigid skin of his throat, his teeth nipping the skin while he rolled his hips against Dean's. Hard and fast, moulding their bodies together in one buck of his hips into Dean's. Dean let his head fall back in abandonment unabashedly thumping against the tiles.

The feeling of the other man's hardness through his jeans rubbing against his own erection made him snap. His hands broke from their fleshy bounds and fell to Castiel's narrow hips.

He flipped over their positions, his fingers pushing up Castiel's thin cotton t-shirt and burying themselves into the deep clefts of his hipbones and brought the lean body up against him.

Slender lithe shaking fingers cupped Dean's erection through his jeans, brushing against the denim. Thumb pushing the cold stiff zipper back until it rubbed savagely against the head.

"Ungg," He moaned before being cut of by the hand that wasn't massaging his balls.

"Shh,"

Dean bit his lip but nodded, feeling a building feeling in his abdomen, curling with arousal.

If he wasn't careful he was about to cum in his pants like some teenager. Dean's hands brushed over a full buttock, his hand trapped between the feel of it under the neatly creased jeans and bathroom wall, while his mouth was making it way down- trailing hungrily along soft flesh.

"Don't leave a mark," Castiel moaned lowly, desperately needing this as much as Dean. Dean faltered a moment but nodded, kissing the soft uncovered skin between his collarbones that the v-neck dipped down past.

Castiel unbuttoned the only one on his jeans, unzipped and began with shaking hands to pull them down. And as much as Dean wanted to just get off because he was now throbbing, almost painful- he wanted to make it enjoyable for the other man. He aimed to please, right? He quickly took away Cas's hands from his jeans, halfway down his thighs and let his own hands tangle in the shock of black hair against the alabaster skin, feeling one's do similar in knotting themselves at the nape of his neck, pulling Dean's head down the slight height difference.

Their mouths found each other again in one hot flash, with teeth nipping and tugging- biting mischievously hard to make each other squirm but never hard enough to draw blood. Stubble brushing under pink swollen lips, Dean let his tongue slide along the smaller mans plump bottom lip who opened his mouth in compliance automatically.

Dean felt his hands move down from their tangle and fall between the crevice of Castiel's shoulder blades and lower until they met the rough edge of his Cas's jeans and return upwards again, only sneaking up under the fine material separating flesh from flesh.

Dean didn't mind the slightly slick surface of the deliciously delicate surface of the skin, his fingers curled until he was scratching the skin with nails, digging in and dragging upwards. He grinned against Castiel mouth as he was arched into, pelvis being thrust upwards to meet Dean's. Hips against hips, grinding slowly, sensually and rocking. Castiel yanked his boxers down and thumbed the head already wet with pre-cum, licking the edge of Dean's mouth as he gasped. Both of them panting hard, while anticipation rolled around in both of them. The whole fumble based purely on a hot desperate want for the other.

Then Dean, of course, had to ruin it.

His hands found their first blemish, then his second, then his third. He counted a dozen on the other mans back while Castiel went stiff around him, the tension around him no longer anything sexual about it.

He pulled away sharply, ducking out around Dean and yanking down his shirt, facing Dean with big blue eyes that were frozen in shock and overwhelming dread.

"Cas," Dean breathed, his mouth not capable forming the question that his brain formulated. The matching scars along the skin he had buried himself into, each identical in diameter and length apart.

Castiel bit down sombrely on his bottom lip.

"Don't tell ," He practically begged in a strangled whisper before taking off the lock and flitting out the door. Leaving Dean only too aware that his jeans and boxers had now slid until they were around his ankles, he was rocking one big ass hard on and he was left wondering what in the fuck had just had happened.

He really should have cared that he had pretty much prebooked his place on the escalator down or that he had also pretty much gotten a breathless hand job from a priest. But he didn't, all he could think about was the scarred skin under his callous fingertips and what had caused them. What had caused such a horrible disfigurement on such soft, smooth skin?

Dean yanked up his jeans and boxers quickly and pressed his fingertip to his neck, were the bruise was already forming from the hickey Castiel had given him.

* * *

><p>Well, *scratches back of neck* I think everybody can guess that I'm a lemon writer virgin. And although I have read them- reading over this, its fairly fucking awkward. Well, I hope you enjoyed it though! I guess this is where the plot comes in. So, umh, yeah...Imma go blush in the corner now! Please review, it makes my day and...you get free milk and cookie out of it!<p>

(::) |_|


	3. Chapter 3

If Dean could have chosen a worse time to play houseguest, then he reckoned he was pretty damn correct about his whole above us only sky philosophy.

A brutish rap on wood broke through the slapping of bare feet trudging tiredly down a flight of stairs. A scowl eminent, eyes crinkled- hazed and dusted with a deep sleep Dean pulled the door open, an iron presence in the door way.

The cruel winter breeze wrapped around his bare chest, lapping up the bronzed skin in one quick unforgiving sweep. Dean shivered involuntarily.

"Dean, darling. Long time no chat," The bundle of designer material and sour stench of bourbon breezed, stepping in from the blanketed porch and into the artificial hum of warmth swathing Sam and Jessica's home.

"Crowley," He growled, his voice deep and scratchy with lining of the abruptly ended dream, drawing him back to voluptuous, _moist_, brunette Carmen.

He slammed the door, folding his arms over his chest and spun to look at the smirking Brit. His scowl deepened further as he noticed the beaded eyes racking along Dean's stomach, leering as though, like always, he knew some deep dark secret.

"As much as I've fantasised about this- it's Jolly Green I've come to speak with," He said, bringing his eyes back up to Dean's.

Dean stared back blankly, refusing to show Crowley how much he weirded him out. Or how much he wanted to knock that smug smirk right off his smug fat face.

"He's not home. Get out,"

"Oh, mate. I own your brother. Don't. Push Me," He said darkly, stepping closer, verging on the boundaries of his precious personal space. Dean stiffened, uncomfortable. "Besides. I'm just here to RSVP," He grinned, stepping back, inexplicably flitting back to the good doctor.

Dean swallowed, rolling out his shoulders. Of course Sam had invited his dickbag of a boss. Of course.

"In person?" He muttered gruffly. Crowley, turned his back to him slipping a stray finger along the banister and collecting the smallest film of dust.

"Sending a card is just so," He brushed his fingers together, turning and casting him an inferior look. Dean rolled his eyes and thanked God that Sam had taken Jessica out for breakfast. He knew enough about the girl that she would possible set on fire with the burn sparking in his cheeks. "Low rent,"

"Nah. Actually I prefer it,"

"You would. Its part of your allure. Nice…," He gestured vaguely to his own neck. Dean's face flushed. "by the way,"

"It's a bruise," He said roughly.

"What, you fell on your neck. Pfft. Chum,"

Dean shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, shooting Crowley a dark look.

"Well, since I doubt your up for a chat and a fag- I'll be going. Just tell you brother, both me and my dear sister will be attending. Cheers. Kisses"

Crowley flitted out as quick he did, leaving Dean just as petulant and slightly anxious. A curling sensation unravelling with an angry velocity at the mention of Crowley half sister. Just as much annoying as her older brother was. Liary, thieving, _admittedly _hot, conniving little bitch.

Dean racked a callous hand over his face, his palm tugging his lower lip down. Shower time.

Sam and Jessica didn't have a big house. It was both big and small. Spacious and clustered. And every second he stayed in it made him swallow the lumps forming in his throat.

He stepped out of the shower, having beat out some frustration building up and towelling off, wrapping a big white towel around his waist, dropping where the clefts of his hip were beginning to dip too much to be considered decent.

He stopped abruptly walking past the mirror and catching his reflection in the steam ridden glass. He wiped the steam and stared inquisitively at himself. He cocked his head slightly, giving himself a better visual. His fingered the soft hollow of his throat verging to the right and finding the darkening bruise blemishing tanned skin. The only mark tethering him to the reality of last night. His hand dropped limply to his side as it slide over the skin, withdrawing it swiftly as if it burned and in a way it did.

When the hell had he substituted firmer skin under his touch, longer bodies pressing desperately against his. The smell of musk and sweat pushing out the desire of soft shiny flowing hair that smelled of strawberries and blue eyes…

He wondered briefly if Castiel felt the shame blend of guilt and exhilaration he himself did. Frustration. Dean pushed the thought to the back of his mind, shaking his head. He could compartmentalize. He was just….frustrated. He needed to get to a bar and hook up with some busty blonde.

Dean sighed. Sam was going to kill him if he saw his little reminiscent of his bathroom floozy.

He needed to cover it. It was to high to be covered by any shirt and not a notion would he wear any sort of scarf/necktie combo that Sam had taken to wearing until he had taken it off with a flushed face and a one fingered salute towards Dean, who was choking on his laughter around a mouthful of coffee.

He looked around the bathroom and spotted it. Wrath or dignity? Sam would never know. Its not like it would ever have to leave this room, it wasn't like it was on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair, diamonds of water clinging to his lashes and supporting the spiking of his fair hair.

Dean squirted a bit of the thick creaming liquid onto his fingers and rubbed it onto the area and spreading it thin. The door burst open and a head of curls was the first thing he saw.

"Dean, oh my God. I am so sorry," Jessica apologised all red faced and stumbling over her words. Then she spotted him equally pink. "Dean. What are you doing with my foundation,"

Dean tongue slipped out unintentionally and flicked against his lower lip.

"Um,"

Jessica found the area he had used it on, barely noticeable in its effect.

"Oh,"

Dean winced, spinning to look at himself in the mirror, now again steamed up and pressed his fingers to the hickey.

"Product, I was testing… It's..um..it's a long story, Jess….Screw it, I'm a painted whore, alright,"

Jessica laughed her tinkling laugh and walked in further, shutting the door.

"You really kinda are," She cocked his head with her hand and took the foundation from him squeezing more out onto two fingers and gingerly rubbing it into his neck, arching away from him at a comfortable distance.

"But Sam will kill you if he sees this, you're my brother in law soon so its in my interest to keep you alive and Sam outta jail and also Sam needs to go to the church and wants you to go with him to ask Castiel about the bachelor party,"

Dean stiffened visibly and Jess stopped, looking at him concernedly through their reflections. _Awesome_.

"So is it someone special," She smiled reassuring, and Dean breathed again when he saw no disgust or realization blooming. Dean swallowed.

"Nah,"

* * *

><p>While Sam had his bitch face Dean, admittedly, had be known on occasion to sport his asshole face and right now he was wearing it like a pro.<p>

"Okay man, you've been quiet all the way here and you were doing thirty,"

"So?"

"Thirty is the speed limit, Dean. What's up?"

Dean thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the Impala and looked straight ahead, ignoring the big ass presence of his little brother crushing him under a concerned gaze like a wave.

"Dean," Sam said, a little irked now at being ignored. Dean rolled his eyes and pushed his seatbelt out. He turned in his seat to fix Sam with a faux twitch of the lips.

"Sammy, I'm fine, okay? Let's just get this over with. Might wanna suit up first though, Mr. Travolta, angel boy" He grinned at Sam's harrowing of his brows.

"Comically huge, molting wings. Smells like cookies, despite pack a day smoking habit. He's sounds like your kind of angel, Dean," Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes again at his brother instead likes the top row of his teeth.

"Your right your more like that kid, you know the one with the whole teen angst, pensive eyebrows, oh and lets not forget the overcrowded forehead," Dean smirks, throwing the car door of the Impala back and stepping out, snickering at Sam's incoherent muttering behind him. He shuts the door and locks it before meeting Sam's stride on the pathway up.

"You know he's in some Edward-Cullen-rapey-I-watch-you-sleep role," Sam huffed out a breath and shook his head. Unsure if he even wants to know. The only thing he finds Dean sneaking downstairs to watch is Dr. Sexy and that, in itself, is weird enough.

Sam quickens his pace, eager to see on of his Christian cronies.

Dean is glad.

He doesn't want to go in to the church, because his compartmentalisation is pretty sucky as it turns out and blue eyes and swollen lips and whispered pleas of silence is all he can think about. He knows he has to face this, its for Sammy and as much as he likes to bash the kid there is nothing he won't do for his brother, not like he'd say that out loud.

And hell. Why the hell should he be feeling like he's intruding, like he's sullied. He pushes the guilt down and this he can do. It wasn't him who attacked the Castiel- Fr. Novak, into playing a game of tonsil hockey in the bathroom.

He pushes past the doors after his brother, slammed with reminisces of incense and fragments of scented candles bubbling down to no more than wax and wick. Sam strides up the pews confidently so assured in the place of prayer. Dean trudges behind him, hands in fists in his jean pockets. He stares straight ahead with a glib air, masking discomfort at the thought of seeing his homoerotica moonlighting priest.

"Fr. Fitzpatrick!" Sam said softly, bowing at the alter quickly before facing the smiling older man. Dean walked up wordlessly beside him.

"Padre," He greeted with a half hearted smile. Sam nudged him until he got the idea. He turned quickly to the alter and bowed his head flightily, turning instantly back to the priest and making the same expression he had since he remembered of making an error.

Apparently, curling his ring and small finger into his palm and cocking his two fingers of his temple while his thumb pointing towards the ceiling and making a pffffft sound was not correct manner in a church.

Sam stiffened beside him. _Suicide's a sin, you fucking idiot_. He could almost hear Sam probing thoughts into his head, angry enough to actually swear.

"Fr. Novak is in the gardens , Dean," Fr. Fitzy said, a little strained but a little amused. Dean scratched the back neck, nodded and bolted aimlessly seeing a door opened to the left of the alter showing the glare of sun on snow.

Castiel wasn't very hard to spot. He was standing rigidly with his back to Dean, having strayed from the path and having found a quiet secluded stretch of garden sheathed by foliage holding snow above and leaving green non affected. Dean never much for symbolism now found it hard not think how very emblematic the whole thing is at that minute.

Blades of grass crunching under the weight of Dean's footfall was the only noise that accompanied his arrival. Castiel never turned, never made even the slightest of twitches to show recognition of his sudden appearance. The closer he gets Dean realizes that the man is chanting, praying profusely and mournfully and Dean does nothing for a minute.

He should say something Dean-ish, make a reference no one knew but him, break the ice pretend there was nothing between both men but foreign nature of two strangers.

"Hey," He says gruffly. _He's such a cliché. _

The man froze, chanting ceased and shoulders bunched. He turned slowly, like he needs time to map out an escape route but when he's turned he smiles looking at him.

"Mr. Winchester, how can I help you," The smile is tight against the man's ashen face, his eyes the only give away. For what he first assumed was a glimmer of amusement he can now spot as a shine of a tightly controlled panic. He wondered if it was what happened between them or that Dean had found the scars marring his back.

"Mr. Winchester was my father," Dean said, mentally cringing at the easiness of the manor he had brought his father up with. He hadn't thought of John in years and when he did, it wasn't so civilised.

"Apologies, what can I help you with,"

"I just wanted to see you-,"

"Why? What would have we to discuss" Castiel asked tightly, cutting him off. Dean pushed down the swelling sense of annoyance and sighed.

"-about coming to Sam's bachelor party. He wants you to come," Dean wasn't all together sure he didn't want the perplexed man in front of him to come.

"I don't think that would be wise,"

"Oh, c'mon. It would mean a lot to him. Apparently, your not such a stick in the mud for one of the Halo Patrol,"

Castiel blanched, flinching at Dean's words. Dean hadn't meant the words to hurt but hell if he was going to coddle a full grown man, who was blatantly side stepping the major issue of last night.

"Tell Sam I'll try to make it," He said, staring over Dean shoulder and bobbing his head in goodbye before turning back to prayer.

He wasn't sure what was it that set him off but all of a sudden he was seething. Indignation was falling off him in waves, anger crackling the air around him, feeding off of him like electrical volts.

He leaned forward, grabbed Castiel's shoulder and spun him around. The baffled rise of his eyebrows and parting of his lips only infuriated Dean more.

"Dean," Castiel said with a sharp intake of breath and a glance to the open doorway of the church. Dean gritted his teeth.

"So, you do this often then," He growled, the anger getting the best of him. It was just like before- the stint that had his fine ass singing Folsom Prison Blues. Red swept down and he raged at the priest, pushing him backwards.

"Do what?" Castiel asked strained, his jaw flexing but not fighting back against the larger man.

"You know what! So tell me, this a regular thing for you? Sleazy bathroom breaks with strangers. This how you get your kicks? The hell kinda priest are you," He snapped, pushing Castiel against the wall encasing the church grounds.

"No- its... I control it mostly, but sometimes I slip," He said sombrely, disgust and self hatred inflicting his features.

Dean tilted his head, and his tongue flicked over his bottom lip. He didn't miss Castiel's eyes follow the motion, lapping it up to before grimacing.

"A slip? You-,"

"And what about you, you act as if your completely innocent in the matter,"

"Excuse me?"

"I see you, you know. I watch you watch me. You hardly discouraged me, you lust after me. _You _want me," Castiel whispered, his proximity making Dean uncomfortable just as much as the truth and anger in Castiel's words.

"Fuck you," Dean snarled, ignoring the rolling sensation in his stomach, the hairs standing on the back of his neck.

"_No_," Castiel snapped, his anger matching Dean's own as he pushed the younger man off of him with a rough shove. The omission rolling from his tongue. Dean growled darkly under his breath before stalking towards him again and pulling and pushing him up roughly against an old oak tree by the lapels of his black jacket.

Castiel lifted his chin defiantly, looking at Dean with a fierce determination not to be bothered by their closeness. Dean swallowed past the lump forming in his throat and loosened his hold- his anger quickly evaporating and being replaced by something else.

The other mans hands came up, slowly disentangling Dean's hands. They drop to his sides, limp.

His jaw flexed, his fingers curled and he shook his head.

"I'm sorry," He grunted, turning away quickly and closing his eyes in frustration. What the hell was he doing. Castiel nodded, pulling away from the tree as slow as a man walking to the chair on death row. Dean ground his teeth down.

_Screw it. _

He yanks him back, throwing him harshly up against the tree bark. The impact rocks the foliage above them. It droops overhead and snow falls in a massive clump between them, catching on both of them like iron fillings.

He doesn't kiss him, though watching haggard breaths breaking through parted lips he wants to. God, he wants to.

He slides a thigh in-between Castiel's, pushing them apart, relishing the tiny hitch of breath and smirks.

Tiny snowflakes have caught on long dark lashes and he leans in, breathing close to the older mans ear, moving his thigh agonisingly slowly up and down- rubbing off the man's crotch.

"Stop," Castiel growled, angered but exhilarated. "_Please_," He breathes and thrusts his pelvis up to match every movements of Dean. Castiel moans his hardening length betraying him as it rubs against Dean's.

"Make me," Dean said between his teeth, slamming a hand over Castiel's head for leverage and one over his mouth. "_Slip_,"

Neither hear the approaching footprints in the blanket of winter.

* * *

><p><em>DunDunDun<em>.

I'm so sorry about the lack of re-replying to ya'll and the complete suckage of update rates. I've been studying for exams, yes- I know. Well, I'm sort of working in so we should soon be meeting the plot. This is pretty much sexual tension and easing myself into writing for my favourite boys! I will try and update quicker... and reviews tend to get those damned creative juices flowing ;)


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